


Out Loud

by moonix



Series: Inside Your Mind [2]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Camping, Developing Relationship, Dirty Talk, First Time, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Masturbation, Neil Winky Face Josten Strikes Again, Phone Sex, Sex Toys, Sexting, Sharing a Bed, Skinny Dipping, Summer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-10
Updated: 2019-05-09
Packaged: 2020-01-11 02:26:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18420918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonix/pseuds/moonix
Summary: Over the summer, Andrew and Neil continue to explore new boundaries in their relationship.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alexjosten](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexjosten/gifts).



> Follows the events of Heart Out, so make sure you read that first!

Andrew watched the soap bubble he’d just made float off toward the blushing horizon and tucked the wand between his fingers like a cigarette. The cravings had dulled down over time, but right now he was aching for one; a persistent buzzing from his spine down his arms into the very tips of his fingers, nagging at him like the high-pitched noise of the mosquitoes in his bedroom late at night.

He’d spent the better part of the day kissing Neil on one of the lounge chairs in the backyard, tucked out of view behind a dying hedge. Hickeys were blooming all along his neck like drunken flowers and he pressed his thumb into one of them, revelling in the slight twinge. A gust of cool air against his overheated skin made him shiver. His mouth felt sore, his glasses were smudged with tell-tale fingerprints, and he had sunburn on his nose because Neil had distracted him so thoroughly he’d forgotten to reapply his sunscreen.

The next bubble burst before it had a chance to pop free. Andrew stabbed the wand back into the bottle and tossed it away. He’d sent Kevin and Neil to pick up some food for dinner so he could have a few moments to himself and cool off. They’d been gone for longer than he’d anticipated—he wasn’t used to the house being so empty and it itched at the back of his neck like sweat. He got up to pace the length of the porch, then pulled out his phone, turning it over in his hand a few times before unlocking it.

 

Andrew: where are you

Neil: still @ olive garden, they messed up our order and kev’s being a prick about it

Andrew: isn’t he always

Neil: well, yeah

Neil: more of a prick than usual

Neil: a giant, humungous dildo of a prick

Andrew: tell him to hurry tf up

Neil: miss me already? ;)

Andrew: no, hungry

 

He shoved his phone back in his pocket and dropped back down onto the steps with a huff. The heat was finally mellowing out, but he still felt like a cake left inside the oven long after it was finished baking. Insect bites marched up his bare legs and arms—for some unfair reason Neil was utterly immune to them, so they all flocked to Andrew instead to get their fill.

His mind supplied an unhelpful image of Neil kissing a trail up his legs, cool lips soothing the sore bites. Neil on his knees, looking up at Andrew through lowered lashes. Neil, Neil, Neil.

How long had it been since he’d craved anything more than a cigarette?

He kicked a stone off the steps and snatched up the soap bottle again.

*

Andrew was stretched out in bed with the window cracked open, staring at the moths that were crawling up and down the insect screen that kept them outside. He’d started out with a book at some point, but now it was past midnight and he had no idea what he’d been doing while time had sneaked past him. The light of his desk lamp was splashed across his side of the room, the darkness beyond thick and oily, smearing over everything it touched. Andrew’s skin was coated in a filmy layer of sweat and he felt crushed by the lingering weight of the heat.

Slowly, he moved his head and stretched out the crick that had built in his neck. Summer nights were full of bad memories, swarming him like insects, everything flung wide open and thrumming with noise. He closed his book and checked his phone, finding a recent message from Neil.

 

Neil: hey, i saw the light under your door. are you still up?

Andrew: yes

Andrew: you?

Neil: yeah, it’s too damn hot

Neil: can i come up?

 

Andrew rubbed his fingers over the screen, tracing Neil’s words. He couldn’t tell if inviting Neil into his room was a bad idea. Everything felt sticky and unreal like a fever dream and he didn’t want Neil to get mixed up in that, but sometimes talking to Neil was grounding enough to dispel the horrors lurking unseen.

In the end, he decided on a compromise. In their sessions Bee was always pushing him to think outside of the box of black and white, yes and no. He told Neil to meet him in the kitchen instead, made a detour to the bathroom to splash some cold water on his face and neck and found Neil making hot chocolate when he came downstairs. Before he could unstick his mouth to complain about it being too hot for hot drinks, Neil had already grabbed a pint of vanilla ice-cream and a bag of ice cubes from the freezer. He filled two glasses with ice cubes, poured the hot chocolate over them and added two generous dollops of ice-cream and whipped cream to Andrew’s glass before handing it over.

Andrew rolled the cool glass over his forehead with a sigh and took a sip. Somehow hot chocolate always tasted better when Neil made it for him, and Andrew had yet to find out his secret.

“You look tired,” Neil said, watching him over the rim of his glass. He was wearing shorts and a thin, long-sleeved shirt and Andrew thought about pressing his now cold hands to his warm skin, feeling his muscles jump underneath his fingers.

“You look hot,” Andrew said, letting Neil figure out which kind of hot he meant. The way Neil’s ears flushed red gave away which one he settled on and Andrew swiped a finger through the whipped cream in his glass and put it in his mouth, sucking and hollowing out his cheeks.

“Can I kiss you?” Neil asked in a hushed voice.

Andrew put his glass down and motioned for Neil to come closer, pleased when Neil let himself be reeled in by the smallest of gestures. Andrew’s legs parted to accommodate him and for a moment Andrew had to breathe and adjust to the new vulnerability of the position, but Neil was, as always, highly perceptive of Andrew’s personal space bubble and stopped short of touching him anywhere.

“Okay?” he murmured.

Instead of answering, Andrew reached out and hooked a finger into the collar of Neil’s shirt, pulling until he stumbled another step closer. He took Neil’s hands and placed them on his own shoulders, which was safer than anywhere near his hips. Neil was already staring at his lips by the time Andrew was done arranging them, so Andrew curled a hand under his jaw and made him chase down the kiss he wanted.

Kissing Neil still messed with Andrew’s head. They’d been doing nothing but for the better part of the holidays so far, yet Andrew’s nerve endings acted like it was the first time every time, making his spine pop and fizz with giddy pleasure. It helped that Neil was so eager to be kissed by Andrew at any and all times, that he kept his hands where Andrew placed them and made these happy little sounds that spilled out of him like loose change.

Andrew lapped up a breathy hum as he slid his fingers through Neil’s hair. It was flat on one side where he’d laid on it and the strands blistered to life under Andrew’s touch, thin and staticky. Years on the run dyeing over its natural colour had made it somewhat brittle and dry, but every time Andrew touched it Neil leaned his head into his hand like a starved cat seeking pets.

Neil’s mouth was cool and chocolatey and Andrew could have spent endless nights getting lost in it like this, just the two of them awake in the wilderness of summer. His hands found Neil’s pockets and wrangled their way inside, tugging him even closer in the process, knuckles brushing over the smooth wings of Neil’s hipbones through the fabric. He felt Neil shudder and stilled, waiting for a no that didn’t come. Neil tightened his hands on Andrew’s shoulders for a moment, then simply went back to placing small, soft kisses along Andrew’s mouth and jaw like it was his life’s work.

Andrew’s skin was buzzing by the time they finally parted. Neil licked his lips as if chasing after Andrew’s taste on them and Andrew could see the tail-end of a smile curling the corners of his mouth, though he hid it behind his glass. The ice-cream in Andrew’s iced chocolate had melted. He still drank it, both of them taking a moment to put themselves back together.

They weren’t even halfway through summer break and Andrew was already wondering how much longer he would last. He wanted to drown himself in Neil, fill his lungs to the brim with him; tug him into bed and find out just how many times he could make him come in a row. They hadn’t actually done anything beyond kissing yet and Neil seemed happy to go slow. Andrew knew he needed it too, but that didn’t stop his head from bursting with overripe fantasies of doing all the things they’d talked about and more.

“I’m going to bed,” he announced, dropping his empty glass in the dishwasher. Neil looked briefly disappointed, then brightened when Andrew pulled his phone out of his pocket.

“Night, then,” he murmured.

“Night,” Andrew replied curtly. He’d barely made it to his room when a message from Neil already came through.

 

Neil: do you want to…?

Andrew: use your words neil

Neil: get off

Neil: it’s been a while

Andrew: it’s been a week

Neil: like i said. it’s been a while

Andrew: god you’re so needy. fine

Neil: seems like i’m not the only one who’s needy… ;)

 

Andrew ignored the jab and sprawled out on his bed, teasing at the waistband of his sweatpants. He thought about letting Neil pull them down, about sitting on the kitchen table like he had earlier, with Neil on his knees between his legs. Andrew would caress Neil’s face and hair as he sucked him off, hands crossed behind his back or maybe wrapped around his own dick. Since Neil never changed out with the others Andrew’s imagination had to fill in the blanks here, and he made a mental note to see if Neil could be encouraged to send him another picture some time.

 

Neil: still yes?

Andrew: yeah

Andrew: you?

Neil: yes

Neil: what do you want?

 

Andrew swallowed down the irritation that snapped through him every time Neil asked. He wasn’t sure himself why that made him so angry, other than the sheer impossibility of Neil’s general existence and the fact that he wanted _Andrew_ , issues and trauma and all.

 

Andrew: i want to hear your voice

Andrew: yes or no?

 

It took a while for Neil’s answer to come through, which meant he was giving it some serious thought. Andrew ignored the little puffball of warmth that had bloomed in his belly and blew out a slow, steady breath.

 

Neil: you mean on the phone?

Andrew: yes

Neil: okay

 

Andrew quickly hit call before he could lose his nerve. They hadn’t done this yet, not counting that one time they’d gotten off together in the hotel room where they’d barely even talked. Neil answered just as fast, sounding breathless and nervous.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” Andrew echoed.

“Still okay?”

“Still okay,” Andrew echoed again, pushing his fingers just underneath his waistband. He’d thought about doing this with Neil, but now that he actually had Neil on the phone, all the words seemed to get tangled up in a giant ball of wool at the back of his throat. He swallowed them down and tried to start over new, but Neil beat him to it.

“So… are you-?”

“Am I…?” Andrew asked, unable to resist poking at Neil’s unfinished question.

“You know,” Neil said awkwardly. “Touching yourself and stuff.”

“And stuff,” Andrew scoffed. “Yes, Neil. I’m touching myself and stuff.”

There was a huff of laughter, muffled by fabric, and Andrew felt it somewhere in his chest like a fabric crease.

“Sorry,” Neil said, sounding breathless and amused. “This is still kind of weird.”

“It’s weird because you’re making it weird.”

Neil made a disagreeing noise.

“It’s weird because you’re right there in the other room, and I really want you, but I don’t know how to tell you that without sounding like a complete idiot.”

Those simple words trickled their way down Andrew’s spine like raindrops on a car window. He felt like he was zipping down the highway at an impossible speed even though he was lying very still on his bed and his fingers had taken half an eternity to inch their way fully into his pants.

“Just like that,” Andrew murmured, turning on his side and curling up into a lopsided star, knees and elbows sticking out at odd angles, protecting his soft middle.

“Okay,” Neil said quietly. “I want you, Andrew.”

Andrew let his breath catch, then let it out slowly and wrapped his hand around his dick.

“Keep talking,” he muttered and closed his eyes.

“I- if you were here,” Neil said, haltingly, “I’d kiss you.”

“Yeah? What else?”

“Well, I’d, uh. Take off your shirt, if that’s okay. And kiss over your chest and your abs. And then…”

“Mhm,” Andrew sighed, his hand slowly finding its rhythm as he imagined Neil’s ruinous mouth on his skin. They were back to square one with their dirty talk, but just the sound of Neil’s slightly rough voice in his ear was more than enough for Andrew, especially when he heard it catch as Neil was getting into it as well.

“Can I? Go down on you?” Neil asked almost shyly.

“Yes,” Andrew said. “Neil?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you touching yourself and stuff?”

Neil snorted.

“Yeah,” he said, sounding like he was smiling. “I’m touching _all_ of my stuff. Does that turn you on?”

“All of your stuff, huh?” Andrew teased. “Like what?”

“You know what,” Neil laughed breathlessly. “Kinda wish I was touching your stuff instead though.”

Andrew curled up tighter still and rocked his hips into his fist, picturing Neil doing the same in his room downstairs. Would he be flat on his back, spread out and naked as he pleasured himself? Or on his side, like Andrew, secret and contained? Would he be under the covers? Sitting up against the wall?

“’m close,” he managed. Neil made an indistinct noise in response, his breathing shallow and irregular. Andrew remembered the way Neil had moaned his name back in the hotel room and shuddered. The memory, bright as a magnesium flare, left imprints on the backs of his eyelids.

“Andrew…”

There it was again, barely a murmur yet loud enough to rock Andrew’s world. Andrew came into his hand, cupping his body protectively around the feeling, and Neil seemed to follow not long after. They both lay there, listening to each other catch their breath, until Neil couldn’t keep it in any longer and another little laugh bubbled over and free.

“Still weird,” he said cheerfully.

“We can go back to texting,” Andrew muttered, slowly uncoiling himself and wiping his hand on a tissue.

“Yeah,” Neil agreed. “But also, maybe we should try this again some time. To practice.”

“Mm,” Andrew conceded. His tongue felt tight like a corkscrew in his mouth with how badly he wanted—everything. Neil. Anything Neil was willing to give him.

“Alright,” Neil said easily. “Good night, Andrew.”

*

It was too hot to play Exy.

Even Kevin had to admit this, albeit grudgingly and after a lot of whingeing. Andrew sat in the shade with a book and a glass of iced tea while Kevin and Neil prowled the garden like restless tigers. He tried to nap and was roused by their endless bickering, so as soon as the worst of the mid-day heat broke, Andrew bundled them both into the boiling car, turned the air conditioning to full blast, and drove them to the nearest lake that was safe for bathing.

The lake was tucked between cornfields and fringed by trees, pixelated green and gold shimmering in the heat. Andrew drove down the dirt path until he found a secluded spot, parked the car so it blocked a gap between the trees and threw a blanket down on the grass. He and Kevin stripped down to their swimming trunks while Neil fussed around with the sunscreen. Andrew knew, theoretically, that Neil had scars and wasn’t comfortable showing them off, but they were far away from the locker rooms and both Andrew and Kevin carried scars of their own. Kevin splashed into the water and immediately struck out for the opposite shore, so Andrew went back and sat down beside Neil on the blanket, methodically peeling off his armbands.

Neil obviously tried not to look, though his eyes flitted sideways in surprise when he realised what Andrew was doing. Then he dutifully fixed his gaze on the bottle of sunscreen in his hands until Andrew tapped the side of his chin.

“You can look.”

He turned his arms, exposing the pale, scarred insides to Neil’s eyes. He didn’t feel anything looking at them now, but letting anyone else see them was still unusual enough that his first instinct was to cover them up again. He opened them wider just to spite the urge and nearly laughed when a ladybug flitted past and landed on his wrist.

Neil slowly reached out a hand and stopped just short of Andrew’s skin.

“Go on,” Andrew told him, curious to find out if the blankness he felt was serenity or merely numbness. Neil touched the tip of his pinkie finger to Andrew’s wrist, offering it to the ladybug and smiling when it crawled on his hand.

Carefully, he lifted his hand. The ladybug flicked its wings and spun off, disappearing in the nearest bush.

“Thank you,” Neil said, “for showing me.”

Andrew considered his discarded armbands, then plucked the bottle of sunscreen from Neil’s lax grip and smeared some on his arms. He waited until it was dry before he stood up and ambled down to the water’s edge, wading in. He’d had a few patchy swimming lessons at school as a kid but had usually skipped those classes once he was older. It was enough to keep his head above water, but he was neither a strong nor a keen swimmer and preferred to just splash about in the shallows to cool off. With Neil’s issues still on high alert Andrew figured it was best to give him some space though, so he paddled around a bit and found a low-hanging tree branch to hold on to. Kevin was already halfway across the lake, showing off his perfect butterfly stroke to a group of sleepy, unimpressed ducks. Andrew watched him lazily for a while and had to fight the urge to turn around when he heard some tentative splashes behind him, indicating that Neil had finally joined them in the water.

“I’d suggest a race,” Neil panted as he drew nearer, “but it seems we’d both only embarrass ourselves.”

Andrew let his gaze fall sideways. Neil was level with him now, awkwardly keeping himself afloat by dog-paddling and treading water. He’d taken off his shirt and Andrew felt strangely pleased for a moment but didn’t linger on Neil’s bare shoulders bobbing up and down in the water.

“When the fuck did Kevin learn how to swim like that, anyway? I thought all they did was play Exy at Evermore.”

“Jean Moreau taught him,” Andrew said, his brain regurgitating the information from a long-ago conversation with an inebriated Kevin.

“Mind if I share your branch?” Neil asked, paddling a little closer. Andrew adjusted his grip and made space for him, and then suddenly Neil was right in front of him, cool and breathless and almost naked, flecks of sunlight dancing in his eyes.

They were, Andrew thought, indecently blue. Blue and sweet and ice-chatteringly cold all at the same time, like blue raspberry slushies.

He was getting soft. What a pain in the ass.

Neil murmured something that sounded like “Can I kiss you?” and Andrew murmured something vaguely affirmative back before cupping his free hand around Neil’s jaw and kissing him. Neil’s lips were cool but his mouth was hot as Andrew licked his way inside, mind buzzing with their proximity and the way their limbs kept brushing under water. It would be so easy to just find the waistband of Neil’s shorts and slip his hand inside, jerk him off while they kissed-

With a crack and a snap, the branch above them broke under their combined weight.

Neil, who had been progressively melting into the kiss, dropped bonelessly into the water and disappeared for a good long moment. Andrew somehow managed to keep afloat by sloshing his arms around in an undignified flapping motion. He hoped that Neil didn’t have his eyes open under water, since he was about level with Andrew’s crotch and would probably be unbearably smug that Andrew had gotten hard just from a little bit of kissing. Or, worse, he’d be weirded out and stop wanting to kiss Andrew.

Neil came up laughing. He shook his hair out like a dog, spraying Andrew with water, then led the way closer to the bank where Neil could just about stand and Andrew’s feet barely brushed the ground, scrabbling awkwardly for purchase.

“Sucks to be short,” Neil grinned, noticing his predicament.

“Says the five foot three midget,” Andrew scoffed.

“Ah, I hear three inches can make a world of difference,” Neil said innocently. Not for the first time, Andrew cursed the day they’d switched phones. Giving Neil an outlet to explore his sexuality in a safe space had backfired spectacularly on Andrew and created a monster who thought playing coy and dropping innuendos and winky faces into otherwise innocuous conversations was a fun way to mess with Andrew’s head.

Andrew’s feet finally found solid ground and he wasted no time in pulling Neil close for another kiss. Just as Neil went all pliant and mellow in his grip in anticipation of Andrew’s mouth on his, Andrew spontaneously re-decided and dunked him under water instead. Neil, unfortunately, had stupidly good reflexes and managed to grab on to him and drag him down with him, sending them both flailing into a patch of reeds.

“I hate you,” Andrew spluttered, spitting out brackish lake water.

“You’ve no one to blame but yourself,” Neil panted, laughing and coughing at the same time, one of his hands still twined around Andrew’s bare wrist.

_He’s right_ , Andrew thought resignedly. _I have no one to blame but myself._


	2. Chapter 2

Practice was officially scheduled to start mid-June. Far too late according to Kevin and far too soon where Andrew was concerned, especially considering he still ferried Neil and Kevin to and from the court regularly. At least it was cool in the stands and the view wasn’t too bad, making it possible to nap, scroll through old conversations on his phone with Neil or indulge in a choice fantasy fuelled by the sight of Neil’s ass in running shorts.

At the beginning of June, Nicky came back with Erik in tow and Kevin moved into one of Abby’s guest rooms to make space and spend some quality time with his dad. Neil migrated upstairs into Aaron’s empty room while Nicky reclaimed his bedroom, and somehow Erik managed to talk Neil into joining him and Nicky for a weekend camping trip before they had to be back on campus. Andrew didn’t care for camping, but he wasn’t just going to stay behind on his own if Neil was going. They stopped at a camping store to borrow equipment and Neil’s face shuttered as he looked at the sleeping bags and gas cookers, the way it did when he was reminded of unpleasant things from his past.

Andrew couldn’t have that, so he hooked his chin over Neil’s shoulder and murmured, “Think we’ll have signal in the wilderness?”

Neil blinked, coming back to the present like climbing back off a ledge.

“Shit,” he said, biting his lip. “I forgot to charge my phone.”

“Of course you did,” Andrew sighed. His hands wanted to reach out and snake around Neil’s middle, so he stuffed them in his pockets to keep them from running wild.

“Sorry,” Neil said sheepishly. “Guess we’ll have to actually talk to each other.”

“Ew.”

“I know,” Neil sighed, “what a chore.”

“Or we could do other things,” Andrew suggested casually.

“Like what?” Neil teased. “Write letters? Make tin-can phones? Send messages in bottles?”

“Cute,” Andrew scoffed, and Neil turned his head and cheekily kissed the side of Andrew’s nose.

“Did you guys find the- oh my gosh.”

Nicky was at the end of the aisle, clutching a basket and staring at them with wide eyes. Neil stepped neatly to the side and grabbed one of the gas cookers at random, dropping it in Nicky’s basket on his way past. Erik, it seemed, was already at the till with their tents, chatting with the shop attendant, which left Andrew alone with his flustered cousin.

“We need alcohol,” Andrew decided.

“Okay,” Nicky said weakly. “Anything else? Sunscreen? Mosquito repellent? Condoms?”

“Chocolate,” Andrew said, deliberately ignoring Nicky’s suggestions.

He’d already packed all of that, anyway.

*

Tents, as it turned out, were smaller than they had any right to be. Andrew shoved down the niggle of uneasiness as he watched Neil expertly assemble their tent and instead focused on methodically skewering marshmallows on sticks to toast over the fire later. Erik was building a fire pit while Nicky buzzed around unhelpfully, gushing about their trip to Paris and the hotel they’d stayed at. Andrew poked his stick through another marshmallow, enjoying the way it resisted at first before giving way. He felt dazed from the heat and the lingering scent of mosquito spray, and he wondered as he pressed his thumb into the marshmallow if Neil’s ass would feel similarly plush and soft under his hands, or if it would be firm and toned like his thighs.

“There, all done,” Neil said, lowering himself onto the grass beside Andrew. “Wow, what did that marshmallow ever do to you?”

Andrew looked down at the white mess on his fingers. That marshmallow was beyond saving, so he put his fingers in his mouth and licked them clean, all the while holding Neil’s gaze.

“Oral fixation much?” Neil hummed, low enough so Nicky and Erik wouldn’t overhear.

“If only I had a replacement for my cigarettes,” Andrew countered. “Something I could just… suck on.”

“Try a lollipop?” Neil grinned.

“We’re miles from civilisation,” Andrew pointed out.

“Pretty sure there was a gas station like, ten minutes away from here.”

“Miles,” Andrew repeated and lifted another marshmallow to his mouth, gently pulling it between his teeth and nibbling on it.

“Suppose those marshmallows will have to do then,” Neil murmured.

“Mm.”

“As entertaining as this is, can you two stop eye-fucking each other for a moment and come help?” Nicky called over, ruining the moment. Andrew turned back to his task of stabbing marshmallows with sticks and Neil went over to Nicky and Erik, and for a while everything was almost peaceful. Dusk crept in on silent paws, trailing cooler air and wisps of mist from the nearby river, and they had dinner around the fire and passed a bottle of whisky between them while Erik told his favourite ghost stories with Nicky tucked against his side. Neither Neil nor Andrew were fazed by the stories and Andrew was curious what kind of horrors Neil would come up with if prompted, but Nicky was already whining about being too spooked to sleep that night.

Stars popped up above them. Andrew laid back on the grass and sought out constellations in the sky, sipping whisky and eating the marshmallows that Neil toasted for him. Crickets chirped in the undergrowth and owls hooted in the distance. Even the dim rush of faraway traffic had thinned out to sporadic white noise and the darkness felt thicker, safer out here than in the cities. Andrew barely noticed himself drifting off until Neil woke him by calling his name, perching on the ground beside him.

“Let’s get you into a sleeping bag before the mosquitoes eat you alive,” he murmured, holding out his hand to pull him up. Andrew took another swig of whisky before following him into their tent, feeling pleasantly buzzed and tired. They changed into sleeping clothes with their backs to each other and got settled into their sleeping bags by the last dregs of light from the dying fire. Erik came back outside after carrying Nicky to bed and Andrew heard him kick dirt over the coals before heading to bed himself.

“Hey,” Neil whispered. Andrew could just about make out his wide-open eyes above his sleeping bag.

“Stop staring,” Andrew whispered back.

“Why? Am I creeping you out?” Neil grinned.

Andrew reached out and placed his palm over Neil’s eyes. He could feel the beeswing flick of Neil’s lashes against his skin as his eyelids twitched closed.

“Now what,” Neil murmured. “I thought you said blindfolds were still too kinky for me.”

“Everything is too kinky for you,” Andrew said. “You’re a virgin, remember?”

In theory, anyway—he’d told Andrew one night, as if Andrew hadn’t already guessed by then. It was easy to forget these days, when Neil had grown so proficient at dirty talk, but Andrew would be taking things slow even if that wasn’t the case.

After all, Neil had asked him to.

Neil hummed, unconcerned, and shifted around until Andrew’s palm was over his mouth instead of his eyes. His lips were cool as he started to press small, dry kisses along Andrew’s hand. He reached the topmost line on Andrew’s wrist and paused, waiting for permission. Andrew had taken his bands off for the night and he felt more naked without them than he would have without his pants on, so he moved his hand away to cup Neil’s jaw instead and run his thumb over his mouth.

“What do you want?”

“You,” Neil was quick to reply. He caught Andrew’s thumb between his lips and sucked it sweetly into his mouth. There was nothing filthy about the gesture, yet Andrew’s nerve endings felt like they were sizzling with sparks.

“What do you want me to do,” Andrew adapted his question, swallowing against the sudden dryness in his mouth. Neil released his thumb and blinked slowly, fishing for an answer that wasn’t already floating belly-up between them in the dark.

“Kiss me,” he said slowly. “And… maybe…”

“And… maybe?”

Neil unzipped the side of his sleeping bag and hooked his little finger around Andrew’s, not so much pulling as guiding his hand down. He lost his nerve somewhere around his hip and Andrew squeezed his finger, waiting him out.

“Maybe just kissing,” Neil finally admitted, letting out a breath he’d been holding. “For now.”

He didn’t let go of Andrew’s finger when Andrew tried to draw back, so Andrew laced their hands together and played with Neil’s fingers while they kissed. He, too, ended up unzipping his sleeping bag as it got warm quickly in the small tent with two bodies half-entwined, and they kissed until their mouths were sore and Neil was starting to nod off. Andrew pulled his hand back from where he’d been absently toying with Neil’s waistband and cupped the back of Neil’s head instead, tilting him in for one last forehead kiss before retreating to his side of the tent.

“Sleep,” he whispered, but Neil had already drifted off.

*

They were woken by the steady patter of rain on the tent walls.

Yawning and half asleep, they hurried to pack up their things and get back to the car, but they still ended up soaked to the bones. Erik was valiantly trying to cheer up a groggy, whining Nicky and Andrew threw a blanket at Neil, getting one of Neil’s intensely fond looks in return. Neil wrapped himself in the blanket without saying anything and dozed off on the way back, utterly unfazed by the howling wind and the crack of thunder that sounded much closer than seemed physically possible. Andrew blinked against the smear of taillights on the wet street and tried not to shiver in his damp clothes.

The rain was still pelting down hard when they got back to the house. Erik and Nicky disappeared in Nicky’s room to warm up, so Andrew hogged the shower for a bit and allowed himself to remember making out with Neil in the tent the night before in glorious technicolour detail. He met Neil on the stairs and Neil flashed him one of his dry, understated smiles that never failed to ignite Andrew’s stomach like kindling. He watched as Neil went into the bathroom and wondered, just for a moment, if Neil was going to jerk off in there too.

While Neil was in the shower, Andrew put some music on to drown out any potential sounds coming from Nicky’s bedroom and made a pot of tea. He snagged a popsicle from the freezer and ate it while waiting for the water to boil. He looked out of the window at the rain and twirled the spent popsicle stick between his fingers, flicking it like a cigarette. A door opened and clicked shut upstairs, shaking him out of his reverie. He went over to Neil’s shelf and stared at the boxes of tea that had shyly but steadily accumulated there, trying to guess if Neil would be more in the mood for Tropical Sunrise, Peach Melba or Ginger Limeade.

He heard Neil pad into the kitchen but didn’t look away from his staredown with the tea. Neil came up beside him and reached for the box of Wild Apple Delights and the jar of honey, his shoulder brushing Andrew’s in the process.

Once the tea was brewing and Andrew had licked the spoons clean of honey, Neil nestled himself into the corner of the kitchen counter and looked so inviting that Andrew abandoned the honey and let himself be drawn over to him instead. They kissed, slow and sweet, and when Andrew saw Neil’s hands flex indecisively at his sides he took them and stuffed them unceremoniously into the pockets of his own sweatpants, forcing down the thrill of alarm that shot through him at the unfamiliar contact.

“Okay?” Neil asked, having felt Andrew stiffen. Andrew kept his hands curled over Neil’s for a moment before letting go.

“Keep them there,” he told him.

“Your glasses are crooked,” Neil murmured and bit his lip. “No, don’t take them off, I… I like them. On you.”

Andrew huffed and rolled his eyes. The glasses were a nuisance to him, but he had noticed that Neil had a strange fondness for them. If he’d been wearing them more often lately, though, it was just because he’d been reading more and was tired of squinting.

They nearly forgot the tea. Neil remembered long enough to pour himself a cup and take a few sips before Andrew pulled him back into the kiss, licking the sweet taste of honey and apples off his tongue. Neil reached up to straighten Andrew’s glasses for him, but they only got bumped askew again when they went back to making out, much to Neil’s delight.

“Neil,” Andrew murmured after the second time Neil had righted his glasses. “Come up to my room?”

“You sure?”

“Hmm,” Andrew made. “Just to…”

“Yeah,” Neil said. “Okay.”

They went upstairs and Andrew kicked some clothes and books out of the way. He contemplated sitting on the bed but went for the armchair instead that he’d pilfered from the living room at some point. Somehow he hadn’t expected Neil to immediately follow him without even having a look around first, and he definitely didn’t expect Neil to let himself be guided into his lap. He stayed poised on his knees at first, as if waiting for Andrew to re-decide, then slowly lowered himself down, inch by inch. It made desire spark in Andrew’s stomach like embers blown back to life and he settled his hands on Neil’s hips, imagined coaxing them into a rhythm and digging his fingers into the soft skin as Neil took his pleasure from him-

“Hey,” Neil whispered. “Do you want…?”

“Say the words,” Andrew reminded him absently, distracted by the way Neil’s usually hard expression had softened into something almost sweet, almost shy.

“We could,” Neil said haltingly, “try. Something.”

He swallowed and Andrew chased the bob of his Adam’s apple with his mouth, pleased when Neil shivered under his lips.

“Want me to get you off?” Andrew murmured against his skin, sliding his hands a bit lower on Neil’s hips. Neil made a small huffing sound, half laugh and half sigh.

“It’s weird, hearing you say that out loud,” he admitted.

“We had phone sex,” Andrew reminded him. Neil let out a thin, shivery laugh and rubbed a hand over his face.

“Yeah,” he said, “yeah, we did.”

Andrew tugged his hand away to see his expression, because he couldn’t tell from his tone if he was amused or horrified or both. Neil shot him a bashful grin.

“Sorry, go on. You were offering to…”

He waved his hand around and Andrew caught it, placing it on the backrest of the chair. He did the same with his other hand, then slid his own up and down Neil’s firm thighs, pressing into the crease where they joined his hips and teasing lightly over the insides through the fabric of his pants. All the while Neil watched him intently, blue eyes almost glowing in the dim light. The rain had faded to a noisy trickle, occasional gusts of wind rattling the window frame.

A simple handjob, Andrew thought. That should suffice for now. He’d done it often enough for Roland and a few guys in juvie that he was confident he’d be able to make it good for Neil, and all he had to do was put his hand in Neil’s pants, or pull them down a little…

And yet.

When he took a breath it seemed to shake on its way down to his lungs. His hands had stilled at the tops of Neil’s legs, tracing nonsense patterns into the fabric like protective runes. Neil cleared his throat softly and splayed one of his hands over Andrew’s wrist.

“We could,” he said quietly, “um, like in the hotel room? Just. Yeah.”

Andrew’s head spun at the thought of jerking himself off with Neil right there in his lap like a daydream turned reality. He wanted and was both repulsed by his own wanting, had to take a moment to reel his overactive mind back in, moor it on the safe shores of his bedroom with the door that locked and the rain that speckled the windows and Neil’s hands rubbing away at the upholstery of his armchair but never leaving the backrest for a second.

“Okay,” he said. “Yes.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next week's update might not be on time because i'm going away on a birthday trip and won't be online for a couple of days jsyk :')
> 
> thanks for all the nice comments, ilu guys

Inevitably, practice started again and they moved back into the dorms. Andrew felt off-balance without Neil in his immediate orbit, though something else clicked back into place at having Kevin, Nicky and Aaron around him again. Aaron had returned from his holiday sunburnt and more relaxed than Andrew had seen him in their entire time together. It made the sting of letting him go all that much keener, but Andrew pushed it away and focused on the increasingly difficult task of getting Neil alone now that he was once again competing for Neil’s attention with the court. At least Neil still kept his phone on him outside of practice, so he could be counted on to reply to messages from Andrew in a timely fashion, and they spent a few stolen hours here and there kissing on the rooftop to distract Andrew from the urge to smoke.

The one time Andrew managed to catch Neil alone in the locker room they were interrupted by Kevin, who was supremely unconcerned about them making out in a semi-public place—probably thanks to the complete lack of privacy in the Nest—but wouldn’t leave until Neil agreed to go over old tapes with him in preparation for their first match of the season. Kevin was also the one who got an unfortunate eyeful of some rather explicit messages that Andrew had sent Neil to inaugurate his new phone, because Neil hadn’t turned message previews off yet. Neil seemed torn between being uncomfortable and finding it hilarious, and he spent half an evening smothering his laughter in Andrew’s neck at Eden’s. By the end of the night, Andrew was hot and bothered and could have strangled Kevin, and Neil was tipsy and mouthy and told Andrew they could never have sex now because Kevin would _know_.

Andrew left him to sleep it off on the sofa and went to bed.

He found Nicky in the kitchen the next morning, making breakfast in a tie-dye rainbow t-shirt, glitter traipsing a generous path down his face. He beamed at Andrew and handed him a cup of coffee and a small black paper bag.

“Happy Pride,” he grinned. “I got that for you in Germany. There’s one for Neil too—I wasn’t sure what flag to get for him, but the rainbow’s universal, right?”

He waited, drumming his fingers against the counter as Andrew sat down at the table and peered inside the bag. There were two tiny rainbow pins nestled inside it, much more discreet than Nicky’s glaringly psychedelic shirt and glitter.

Nicky was still waiting anxiously, so Andrew made an effort to unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth and muttered, “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” Nicky smiled, something wet shimmering in the corners of his eyes that looked suspiciously like tears. Andrew chalked it up to the glitter, tucked the bag away and started loading up his plate.

He pinned one of the rainbows to his black shirt later, smoothing his thumb over it and trying not to feel alienated by the existence of a whole community that he was supposed to belong to but didn’t, not really. _Not yet_ , Bee would say, with that infuriating smile of hers, but Andrew dismissed the stray thought. For now, he was going to wear the damn rainbow because it made Nicky happy, and that was good enough.

Neil was nonplussed about his own badge but pinned it to his shoelaces to appease Nicky, who looked ecstatic when he saw the two of them wearing their new matching accessories. Aaron rolled his eyes and Kevin muttered something about keeping it lowkey and the perils of being out as a professional athlete. Neil looked two seconds away from borrowing Nicky’s glitter just to spite him and Andrew quickly tugged him into the car and kissed the defiance off his face.

“I could stab him,” Neil offered. “With the pin. He’d bleed out before the ambulance arrives.”

“Don’t dirty talk me in public,” Andrew chastised, stealing another kiss.

It took until their next weekend at Columbia before they found themselves in bed together for the first time. Andrew had Neil pinned down and was in the delicious process of kissing him senseless, late at night with everyone else fast asleep. Neil had sneaked upstairs on Andrew’s request and seemed to have absolutely no qualms about being taken apart by Andrew’s mouth until the wee hours of the morning. Andrew could feel that he was hard where his thigh was pressed against Neil’s crotch, but he was too kiss-dazed and sleepy to do anything about it, and Neil didn’t complain.

He must have fallen asleep at some point, because he woke up with Neil still in his bed, soft and pliant underneath him. Sunlight had swept the room clean and the birds were chirping up a storm outside the window, and Andrew lay there for a long while, not sure how to feel about getting a good night’s rest sleeping practically on top of another person.

“Interesting,” Neil said wryly, stirring a little underneath him.

“What,” Andrew ground out.

“Hadn’t pegged you for a snuggler,” Neil teased, flashing him a cheeky, sleep-creased grin.

“I’m not,” Andrew tried to argue, horribly aware that he was still practically fused to Neil’s body. He tacked on a gratuitous, “fuck you,” before rolling off him, viciously pleased at the little _oof_ Neil made when he accidentally elbowed him in the kidneys.

“Shame,” Neil hummed. “I didn’t mind that.”

“You’ll mind if I piss on you if I don’t make it to the bathroom,” Andrew shot back. “Don’t tell me you’re into that now.”

“Is that really a thing?” Neil groaned, looking vaguely nauseated. “You’re making that up.”

“Am not.”

“People are weird.”

Neil scrunched up his nose and stretched out his arms and legs now that he had freedom of movement again. Andrew left him in his bed while he went to the bathroom and got dressed, and when he came downstairs he studiously ignored Kevin’s curiously arched eyebrow, Aaron’s passive-aggressive newspaper rustling and muttered “for fuck’s sake” and Nicky’s barely contained glee. News of Neil sleeping in Andrew’s bed had travelled fast, it seemed, and the fresh hickeys on Andrew’s neck probably didn’t help.

“You know,” Nicky said dreamily, leaning his cheek on his coffee mug, “I reckon Neil must be really good in bed.”

 “What? Why?” Kevin asked, then looked like he regretted the question instantly.

“Some of us are eating,” Aaron huffed.

“Because,” Nicky purred, “Andrew’s been so much more chill lately, and the only thing that’s changed is that he’s getting it on the regular now.”

“I was getting it on the regular from Roland before,” Andrew felt compelled to point out. “And I’m still not above stabbing you somewhere non-vital but nonetheless painful.”

“I’m still eating,” Aaron said bitterly from behind his newspaper.

Nicky winced and visibly reined in his curiosity about Roland.

“Well, okay, but… it’s different now, isn’t it? This only proves my theory. Neil’s got a blessed dick.”

Aaron threw his newspaper down, uncaring that it landed in Nicky’s food, and scraped his chair back on his way up.

“Sorry!” Nicky called half-heartedly after him. “Come back! I’m done talking about Neil’s dick, I swear!”

“Why were you talking about my dick?” Neil chose that moment to slip inside and steal Andrew’s coffee on his way past.

“Oh Neil, honey, I was just saying that-”

“Nothing,” Kevin said loudly, clamping a hand over Nicky’s mouth before it could spill any more garbage. “He was saying nothing. Don’t eat too much, we’re going for a run later.”

Neil caught Andrew’s eye over a piece of toast and winked. Andrew rolled his eyes, made himself another cup of coffee and retreated to the front steps for some peace and quiet, surprised when he found Aaron already camped out there with his half-finished bagel and Andrew’s soap bottle in his hand.

“So, you really stopped smoking,” Aaron said after a stilted pause as Andrew lowered himself onto the steps beside him and snatched the bottle from his grip. He blew a single bubble at Aaron in response, feeling a faint tug of amusement when it popped right against his face.

“Eurgh. Very mature.”

Andrew took turns sipping his coffee and blowing bubbles at Aaron, who frowned and swatted at them but didn’t leave. They sat in silence until Andrew’s coffee was gone, and then Aaron cleared his throat.

“As much as it pains me to say it, but Nicky sort of has a point,” he muttered, rubbing the soapy residue from his fingers. “You seem… I don’t know. More relaxed, or something. Less twitchy.”

“Why, Aaron,” Andrew smirked. “Does that mean you suddenly approve of Neil putting his dick in me?”

Aaron looked alarmed.

“Does he?”

“Put his dick in me? No.” Andrew watched the conflicted emotions flit across Aaron’s face—a narrowing of eyes, a downturn of the mouth, lips pressing together and twitching sideways—and decided to add a flippant, “Not yet,” just for the heck of it.

“Why did I ask,” Aaron muttered under his breath. “Just… tell me you’re being—safe.”

“If you mean do we put condoms on our dicks before we fuck-”

“Jesus Christ,” Aaron groaned.

“Don’t ask rude questions if you want prude answers. Tell me how you’re going to be a doctor again if you can’t say the word cock?”

“There’s a world of difference between a professional conversation about medical issues between a doctor and a patient and getting told unsolicited details of your family members’ sex lives,” Aaron snapped. “You know what, never mind. It’s none of my business. Get chlamydia for all I care, I’m going back to bed.”

“Pleasure hanging out with you, as always,” Andrew drawled, waving his middle finger at him as he stalked past.

*

When Neil sprained his ankle on one of his morning runs, Andrew wasn’t even surprised. He picked him up in the car with a bag of frozen peas and made him lie down at the dorms instead of going to class, but there was no keeping him away from Exy practice. It took a combined effort from Wymack, Abby and Matt to install Neil on the bench with another ice pack and enough snacks to survive the apocalypse, while Andrew hid both of Neil’s racquets in a broom closet at the other end of the court just to be safe. Neil grumbled and sulked but accepted his fate and spent practice taking notes on everyone’s performance on his phone, then chewed out the freshmen for half an hour while the rest of them showered. Andrew overheard one of them whisper about how Neil was kind of hot when he was in captain mode and privately agreed, though he made a mental note of the speaker so he could keep a careful eye on them in the future.

Neil stayed behind with Kevin and assured him he would catch a ride with Wymack later rather than limp back to the dorms on his injured ankle. Andrew dropped Nicky and Aaron off and decided on a whim to go on a little joyride by himself, music cranked up as loud as it would go and a bag of lollipops open on the seat beside him to stave off any habitual nicotine cravings. He stopped by a strawberry field that he and Renee had sometimes gone to after sparring and bought a pint to take back—not because Neil liked them, but because he had chocolate ice-cream in the freezer that they would complement well. On his way back to the car, he checked his phone and found several unread messages that Neil had evidently sent him during practice.

 

Neil: remember that time you talked about fucking me on the court?

Neil: i guess i never did answer you

Neil: not gonna lie, i can think of a lot of things i’d rather do on a court than fuck. but.

Neil: the way you look right now? all sweaty and focused in your goalie uniform, with those gloves on and the shoulder pads, not that you need them

Neil: i think about that a lot

Neil: i’d let you fuck me all geared up like that

 

Andrew rolled his eyes but had to swallow against the sudden dryness in his throat all the same. He couldn’t deny that having Neil go from utterly bemused at the idea of finding anyone physically attractive to telling Andrew that his uniform was a turn-on did things to him, especially when Neil was so vocal about it. Being seen as desirable had always been a very slippery, dangerous slope for Andrew and he’d spent a couple of sessions talking it out with Bee and marking out his boundaries again and again, like a child tracing the letters of the alphabet until they came naturally to its hand. With Neil, Andrew was slowly learning new letters from scratch every day.

He snacked on a particularly big and juicy strawberry, leaning against the car and squinting in the sun as he typed his reply.

 

Andrew: you and your exy fetish

Andrew: when i buy you that vibrator i’ll make sure it’s orange and white. or who knows? maybe they do custom prints

 

Neil’s answer came lightning-fast.

 

Neil: find me one with your jersey number, then we can talk

Andrew: will you use it if i do?

Neil: guess you’ll have to find out ;)

 

Andrew bit his tongue to get rid of the tingling sensation at the back of his throat and wiped the back of his hand over the sweat that had gathered on his forehead. He tipped his sunglasses back up his nose and did a quick search on his phone, then got in his car and drove to the nearest address before he could lose his nerve.

That was his life, these days: a constant game of truth-or-dare with himself. He liked to think he was winning—at least for today.

*

Andrew kept the vibrator he’d bought in a cereal box in his locker, hidden in plain sight, until the next time they went to Columbia. It was small and sleek, silver with a slim orange band around the base because the store Andrew had gone to didn’t exactly have a lot of options in stock. While he was at it, he’d also grabbed a bottle of fancy, expensive lube, a spare pack of batteries, condoms and cleaning equipment, and he bundled everything up in a nondescript black plastic bag and shoved it under his bed as soon as they arrived at the house.

Summer was starting to turn crisp at the edges. Eden’s was hot, stuffy and sticky that night and even Nicky was too heat-addled to dance for long, so they called it an early night and Andrew steered Neil to his room when he made for the couch. Kevin, successfully sober for one month and not very happy about braving Eden’s without a single drink, looked a little less doom and gloom at the prospect of having the sofa to himself and went straight to bed. Andrew waited until Nicky and Aaron had also stumbled off to their respective sleeping quarters before taking a well-hidden bottle of whisky out onto the front porch with him and sending Neil a text.

 

Andrew: staying up for a bit.

Andrew: look under the bed.

 

He waited, breathing in the still night air and taking small sips of whisky. Neil’s reply took a while but was as flippant as usual despite the fact that Andrew’s purchase was another step outside of their agreed-upon comfort zone.

 

Neil: naww

Neil: i’m disappointed

Neil: at the very least you could have gone for a picture of kevin’s face, so i could shove him up my ass every time he pisses me off

Andrew: i’m sure you’ll find one online somewhere

Neil: but then it wouldn’t be from you

Neil: no, i think i’ll stick with this one for now

Andrew: stick huh

Andrew: do you need instructions where to stick it

Neil: are you offering? ;)

Andrew: if you want

Neil: hmm

Neil: not tonight

Neil: maybe some other time though

Andrew: ok

 

The vibrator was once again tucked away in its hiding place when Andrew finally joined Neil upstairs. He got ready and slipped into bed beside Neil, who was lying in the dark but still awake, bright eyes following Andrew’s movements as he got comfortable.

“Shirts off, yes or no?” Andrew murmured, touching the tip of one finger to Neil’s arm where it was tucked under the pillow.

“Uhh…”

Neil fretted at the sheets and chewed on his lip.

“It’s dark,” Andrew pointed out. “And I won’t touch you if you don’t want me to.”

“Well… alright,” Neil said, but made no move to take off his shirt.

“That’s not a yes,” Andrew said.

“Hmm,” Neil made, sounding unhappy. “I will, if you want me to. It’s just…”

“Don’t give me that shit. A no is a no, doesn’t matter what I want.”

“They’re ugly,” Neil blurted out, agitated. “They’re really… really ugly. And they don’t feel nice. And some of my skin is kind of, numb? And it just feels alien and wrong, and I know I’m supposed to… be confident and not give a shit and, um, enjoy… stuff. But I’m not and I can’t. And if you want me to take off my shirt because you want all that, fine, but if you want me to take off my shirt because you want me to take off my shirt, then it’s a no.”

The last words slid out in a shaky rush of breath and Neil’s body curled into itself like an autumn leaf, dried-up and sullen, an unconscious defence mechanism. Andrew hooked his finger under Neil’s chin and pushed until his head was tipped back almost uncomfortably.

“I thought I had made myself clear on the matter of what I want,” he said.

“You want nothing,” Neil dully echoed something Andrew had said a long time ago.

“No,” Andrew said. “I want you. All of it. The ugly and the rest.”

Neil had to digest this first, and Andrew could practically see his internal argument reflected in his eyes. In the end, he sat up with a huff and yanked off his shirt if only to prove one of them wrong. Andrew waited until his fit of defiance was over and Neil had laid back down before also sitting up and taking off his shirt and armbands.

“Drama queen,” he told him. “Go to sleep.”

“You go to sleep,” Neil muttered back, pushing his face into the pillow with a scowl.

It took them both a while. Neil was still and quiet as usual but Andrew could tell from the tension in his frame and his breathing pattern that he was awake. Every time one of them started to doze off they would startle each other awake again at the smallest movement. Andrew was playing with the idea of moving to his armchair just to get some distance between them but found he was too tired to even get up and eventually drifted off to sleep after all.

When he woke the next day, Neil was already up and dressed, scars hidden away like a nightmare forgotten in the morning light. Andrew tugged him in for a kiss, grip light like a suggestion, and Neil tucked his face into the crook of his neck and leaned against him for a moment, breathing in and out.

“Thanks,” he muttered, and Andrew tightened the hand on his arm and didn’t reply.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> erm yep... this is happening. i hope you're ready lmao

Summer was truly on its way out, and Neil was constantly exhausted.

Andrew watched and waited, let him tire himself out on the court over and over again, but after they lost a brutal game and had to wait for hours at the hospital for one of their freshmen to be released after an in-game injury, Andrew put his foot down.

“We’re going home,” he told Neil, shoving a packed overnight bag at him on his way out of the dorms. Neil followed, dark circles under his eyes and limping slightly, and didn’t even question Andrew’s use of the word “home” when they were clearly not driving to the court.

Andrew didn’t ask any of the others if they wanted to come and went straight to the car. Neil folded himself into the passenger seat of the car and was asleep within minutes—sleep came easier to him on the road than anywhere else, so Andrew took his time and went the long way around, only stopping for food when they were almost in Columbia. He made up Nicky’s bed for Neil and sent him to bed as soon as they arrived, and they spent most of Saturday napping, watching TV and kissing lazily on the sofa with no one else there to disturb them.

“Andrew?” Neil murmured against his lips as the day tipped towards evening, sunset a bruised colour reel splayed on his skin. Andrew chased a lick of blueish purple light with his tongue and hummed. “Remember that time we, uh. Talked on the phone?”

“You’ll have to be more specific than that,” Andrew said, even though he knew exactly which time Neil meant.

“Remember when I said we should, mm, practice some more?”

Andrew pinched his lower lip between his teeth and kissed the corner of his mouth.

“Mm. And?”

“Well,” Neil said slowly, turning his face into the kiss and sighing. “I was just thinking, we have the house to ourselves, and… Maybe we should. Do that.”

“Maybe we should,” Andrew agreed, just before his stomach gave an audible grumble. “After dinner.”

“Mmkay,” Neil hummed, an impish smile catching his mouth sideways like a gust of wind.

Andrew thought about it all through dinner. There were so many possibilities—so many different things they could try. They hadn’t actually talked about the vibrator anymore since Andrew had given it to Neil and curiosity was nagging at him like a fly buzzing around his insides. It had been gone from under his bed last time he’d checked, but he didn’t know where Neil kept it, if he’d even brought it. But there were other things, too—so many, many things—and Andrew felt their potential crowd up his brain and prickle in his spine.

They cleared up the remains of their dinner in silence. Watched something on TV that even Andrew couldn’t remember after. Went to bed. Separately.

And then Neil called, and Andrew forced himself to pick up calmly and not fling himself at his bed like a teenager discovering hormones for the first time.

“Hi,” Neil said breathlessly.

“Hey,” Andrew said.

There was a pause where they both collected their thoughts, and then Andrew decided to jump right in before they could pretend this was just a good night call.

“Are you hard?”

There was a hesitant mumble on the other end of the line, then Neil cleared his throat and said, “Yes.”

“Okay,” Andrew hummed, mentally leafing through the ideas he’d filed away earlier. “I want you to push your sweatpants down to your knees, but not completely off. Can you do that for me?”

“Yes,” Neil said again, rustling around as he complied. Andrew closed his eyes for a moment and let pleasure sing through him at the thought of Neil following his instructions, lying on his bed with his sweatpants pooling around his knees, hard and waiting for Andrew to tell him what to do.

“Do you want to touch yourself?” Andrew asked.

“Yeah,” Neil groaned quietly.

“Mm,” Andrew said. “Don’t start on your cock right away. I want you to take your time, tease yourself a little first. Start with your nipples and work your way down.”

The noise Neil made was almost sceptical, but he didn’t protest. Andrew waited, listening to the faint sounds of fabric rustling and imagining Neil with his t-shirt pushed up under his armpits, rubbing and twisting at his nipples until they were stiff and needy and blushing under his fingertips.

“You’re quiet,” he remarked after a few moments.

“I don’t-” Neil sighed, then admitted: “I’m not sure how to do this. I keep thinking about my scars. It’s off-putting.”

Andrew thought about this for a moment. He considered telling Neil how he would kiss and lick his scars if he was there but decided against it; there was time to confront that issue another time, when Andrew was actually there and could make Neil forget about those scars more effectively.

“Alright,” he said at last. “We’ll move on. Tell me where else feels good to touch other than your cock?”

“I,” Neil stammered. “Uh. I like it when you hold me down while we kiss. It feels… safe?”

Andrew had to press the back of his hand to his mouth for a moment to contain his reaction.

“Neil.”

“Yeah?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Oh,” Neil said. “Well, I don’t know then. Unless you mean that thing we did on Valentine’s Day.”

“Thing, huh?” Andrew echoed, pausing to bite the wool of his sweater as the memory lit up red in his brain like a goal hit dead-centre. “You mean when you fingered yourself?”

Neil didn’t deign that with a response, which meant he was either annoyed or embarrassed, or maybe a bit of both. Andrew thumbed the little wet patch on his sleeve where he’d bit down and adjusted his position on the bed.

“Do you want to do that again?”

“Do you want me to do that again?” Neil shot back, teasing around the edge of nervous.

“Yes,” Andrew said boldly.

“Oh,” Neil breathed. “Okay. Let me just… I need lube.”

The mattress creaked under him as he shuffled around in search for the lube and Andrew’s stomach clenched in anticipation. Should he…? Maybe he was getting ahead of himself—but maybe it was worth a try…

He called Neil’s name to get his attention back.

“Remember when I told you to check under the bed?”

There was a sharp little pause at the other end before Neil answered.

“Yeah. Yes. I… should I get it? I haven’t…”

Andrew held his breath for a second and let it out slowly.

“You still have it?”

“Yeah. I hid it, but I can go and get it.”

“You don’t have to,” Andrew said pointedly.

“I know,” Neil said. “I’ll get it.”

Andrew used the time it took Neil to fetch the lube and vibrator to press his hot face into his cool pillow and methodically put himself back together. The silence throbbed in his ears and he couldn’t help but strain for any noise coming from downstairs, but Neil’s room was too far away. He had to make do with the puff of breath filtering through the phone as Neil told him he was ready.

“Put me on speaker phone,” Andrew suggested. “Got everything you need? Still yes?”

“Yes,” Neil confirmed.

“Good,” Andrew said. “Then slick up your fingers and spread your legs.”

He heard the faint click as Neil uncapped the lube. It was that sound, innocent and brief as it was, that made Andrew very suddenly and intensely aware of just how hard he was himself. He let his hand trail down and rested it over his erection, feeling the damp heat and the smear of pre-come through the fabric of his underwear but not allowing himself to do anything about it just yet. This call wasn’t about him. It was about making Neil feel good.

“Just one finger for now,” he told Neil, dropping his voice to a husky murmur. “We’re going to get you all nice and slick and relaxed first.”

“Okay,” Neil sighed. “What do you want me to do?”

Andrew made him rub and tease at his hole for a bit first, which coaxed the most delicate, breathy sounds out of him. He had to be lying right next to his phone, because the sounds were whispery quiet but very close, and Andrew matched his voice to their volume when he told Neil to push his finger in to the first knuckle.

“Wow,” Neil murmured sarcastically, “the first knuckle? Aren’t we moving a bit fast here?”

“Suit yourself, then,” Andrew scoffed. “Ram it in all the way, I don’t care.”

Neil huffed out a short burst of laughter. It was dizzying and disorienting to hear in the middle of sex, and Andrew tugged hard on his sleeves to ground himself again.

“Just—you know I’m not,” Neil said, chewing over the words. “Delicate.”

Andrew thought of the way the sunlight had tickled freckles to the surface of Neil’s skin. He thought of the fleeting dimples in his cheeks when he laughed, of the flickering shadows of his eyelashes crowning the soft skin under his eyes. Of the reverent way he touched Andrew and the shock of waking up echoing in his expression, of the blue tracery of veins in his eyelids in the morning light.

Neil was right, he wasn’t delicate; he was ethereal, like heat shimmering on asphalt, always staying just out of reach even when Andrew felt himself blister.

“Been doing this a lot since Valentine’s, have you?” Andrew asked.

“Once or twice,” Neil confessed, low and quiet. “After you gave me the… But I haven’t used it yet.”

“We’ll get to that. Are you still hard?”

“Yeah. Yes, I’m still hard, Andrew.”

Andrew was, too. He pressed the heel of his palm down against his dick, breathing out.

“Are you fingering yourself?”

“No. Was waiting for you to tell me,” Neil said cheekily.

“Do it,” Andrew growled.

“How many fingers?”

“One, two, I don’t care. However many it takes to get you going, Josten.”

“You do realise,” Neil said, his voice shaky like his whole body was shuddering, “that any more than two is actually really awkward?”

“Two then, smartass,” Andrew told him, slowly rubbing his thumb over the tip of his dick in little patterns, feeling it jerk under his touch as he relentlessly pressed against the most sensitive spots.

He wondered, dimly, if Neil could come just from fucking himself on his fingers.

“Neil?”

“Hmm?”

“Talk to me.”

“Fine,” Neil said curtly. “Can I take my pants off now?”

Andrew’s reply got lost in a rush of breath. He hadn’t realised Neil still had the sweatpants on. They would be tangled around his legs by now, restricting how far he could spread them, and he could imagine the way Neil’s muscles strained against the fabric.

“No. Leave them.”

The gasp Neil made sounded like someone had punched it out of him.

“Can I touch my- myself?” he asked. Andrew let the momentary shyness slip and made an affirmative noise, enjoying the breathless, trembling sounds that spilled out of Neil as he started jerking himself off. After a while they dwindled and he whispered, “Okay, I’m—ready, what now?”

Andrew’s stomach clenched in sweet longing. He was so hard it hurt and he finally allowed himself to slip a hand into his underwear, squeezing his hand around his dick to relieve some of the immediate pressure. Pre-come leaked over his fingers, sticky and warm, and he swallowed.

“Do you still want to use the toy?”

“Mhm.”

“Take it out, then,” Andrew said, giving his dick a few firm strokes before going back to tease at the head. “You know you don’t have to fuck yourself with it, right?”

“What else am I supposed to do with it?” Neil asked, bewildered.

“It vibrates,” Andrew pointed out. “You can hold it to your dick for extra stimulation, for one. Turn it on and off, try different settings.”

“Okay,” Neil mumbled. There was a faint buzzing sound and a gasp, then the frequency changed as Neil adjusted the settings and found one that seemed to work.

“Holy shit. Okay.”

“Good?”

“Weird, mostly. And intense. But in a good way?”

He moaned a little, and Andrew had to pull his hand out of his underwear and bite down on his sleeve again, warm breath staining the fabric. The buzzing stopped. Neil’s breath was loud and uneven in the silence it left behind.

“Andrew?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you… is this doing anything for you?”

“Yes,” Andrew said truthfully. Neil drew in a sharp breath and let it go slowly, shakily.

“Okay,” he said. “I think I want to—try.”

“Try what, Neil?”

“You know. The other thing you said. With the…”

“You want to fuck yourself with the vibrator?” Andrew translated.

“Yeah. That,” Neil mumbled. “Can I…?”

“Yes,” Andrew said and reached down to pull his underwear out of the way, sighing at the caress of cool air on bare skin.

“One day,” Neil said unsteadily, “I want to do this with you. Want you to do—want you…”

A small moan lapped at his vocal chords and he lost track of what he was saying. Andrew felt so hot just listening to him, taut and wound up with tension like he was going to snap at the smallest touch. He wanted to come so badly, and then he heard the buzzing noise again and it seemed like the vibrations were right inside his brain, rocking him to the core.

“ _Ah_ , Andrew,” Neil gasped, voice straining toward the higher notes.

“Fuck,” Andrew swore. Neil moaned and Andrew wrapped his hand around his cock again, stripping it as fast as his wrist would go, hips arching off the bed as he imagined Neil downstairs, fucking the vibrator in and out of himself, legs still tied up in his sweatpants and moaning his name.

Andrew came in his hand, holding his breath to keep any sounds from escaping, and immediately felt like melting into his mattress and never getting up again.

“Fuck,” he whispered again, a violent shiver running through him. Orgasms were, for lack of a better word, always a bit of a mind-fuck. They made him feel triumphant and vulnerable at the same time, and it always took him a while to come back down to earth and find his feet.

“Andrew,” Neil murmured, still sounding hot and heady though the buzzing was gone. “Andrew, Andrew. Did you come?”

“Did you?” Andrew countered.

“Not yet. Got overwhelmed.”

“Do you want to stop?”

“No,” Neil sighed. “Want to come.”

“Then come,” Andrew told him. Neil moaned again, but it sounded further away and muffled this time, like he’d turned his head into the pillow. “Want to hear you, Neil. Come on.”

Another moan, louder again this time, crumbling into sweet nothings like a clump of sugar between fingertips. Andrew heard something that sounded like his name again, only secret and desperate, like buried treasure, until all that was audible anymore was the great big shudder of Neil’s breathing.

“Okay?” Andrew asked quietly after a while, itching to clean himself up but not wanting to leave Neil just yet.

“Yeah,” Neil muttered. His voice was frayed at the edges, windblown and grass-stained, and he cleared his throat. “Uh, hi.”

He sounded utterly wrecked. Andrew closed his eyes and thought about going downstairs, about crawling into bed with Neil and cleaning him up with his tongue.

“How about you?” Neil rasped after a moment. “You’re okay too?”

“Yeah,” Andrew said weakly. “I’m going to…”

“Okay. I’ll take a shower when you’re done.”

“Okay,” Andrew said and hung up. He pulled up his underwear and grabbed a few clean clothes off his dresser on his way to the bathroom, listening carefully for any sounds. Neil was still in his room, waiting for Andrew to finish, and the house was quiet. Andrew still locked the door behind him and took a deep breath.

Sooner or later, he would have to face Neil again. The real, flesh-and-bone version of him, not that sweet vision of orange sweatpants and clicky lube bottles that was both unbearably close and reassuringly far away on the other end of the phone and moaned Andrew’s name when he came. Andrew wasn’t ready, yet some part of him already missed having Neil in his arms.

This boy was going to drive him insane, and Andrew was so fucked.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am super behind on replying to comments because i was away last week and i've been sick this week but i felt a little brighter today so thought i'd post the final chapter at least. thanks for sticking around and hope you enjoy!

October brought storms and bad memories for Andrew, twisted up tight like origami inside simple everyday tasks and spilling out in bright orange ribbon when Andrew least expected it. Neil received a text from an unknown number that turned out to be from his mother and went sullen and silent for a week, but Andrew was too caught up in his own shit to deal with Neil’s issues as well. Neil was always going to have a complicated relationship with his mother, whether she was present or not, and there wasn’t anything Andrew could do about it.

He’d already promised not to kill her. And, really, that was more than she deserved.

He and Neil put their explorations on hold while Andrew attempted to screw his head back on, in and out of sessions with Bee, and Neil channelled his frustration into Exy. In the end, it was Boyd who finally managed to talk Neil out of his bad mood—Andrew wasn’t sure how, but he wagered it had something to do with his own complicated relationship with his father. Bonding over shared trauma was a very Fox thing, after all.

And then, just like that, it was Halloween. Nicky decided they were going to have a party at the house and Neil decided they might as well bring Boyd, who liked to play dad for the freshmen but orbited around Andrew’s group like a lost puppy ever since Seth and the girls had left.

“Is that okay?” Neil asked Andrew. Still asking, always asking.

Andrew shrugged and said, “He can have your armchair,” even though they hadn’t slept in the same bed in weeks. Neil threw him a look but didn’t say anything, and Aaron left the room to invite Katelyn while Nicky moped about the fact that Erik wouldn’t be there.

Nicky cheered up again when Katelyn arrived to the party with a karaoke machine. Andrew took up sentinel on the window sill with a glass of pumpkin spice punch (disgusting, but just about sweet enough to satisfy some primal craving) and watched as the others devolved into an increasingly off-key mess of singing and arguing. Even Neil let himself be bullied into croaking out an unenthusiastic but passable duet with Boyd before retreating to the window sill with Andrew.

It was late when they finally locked up the house and poured the last dregs of punch down the kitchen sink, Andrew and Neil the last ones awake after Boyd had conked out mid-tidying up. Neil made a half-hearted attempt at dragging him over to the armchair, an endeavour which Andrew refused to be a part of, but ended up leaving him propped against the side of the sofa instead in favour of following Andrew upstairs.

They got ready for bed in silence. Andrew poked and prodded at himself, asking himself one last time if he was in the right headspace to share his bed again. All he felt tonight was pleasantly blank, which was as good a yes as he was going to get from himself. Neil huffed a laugh when Andrew climbed over him, wobbling on the unsteady surface, and Andrew pulled him into a kiss to chase down the sweet aftertaste of the sound.

“Are you tired?” Neil asked between kisses, nuzzling his nose against Andrew’s. “Because I’m not. Anymore.”

“Is that your way of telling me you want to do stuff,” Andrew muttered against his mouth.

“ _Do stuff_ ,” Neil grinned. “Normally you’re the one who makes fun of me for not using my words.”

Andrew tugged on his hair, forcing his head back.

“Do you want to get off?” he reiterated.

Neil laughed again, a dry, breathy sound like a cloud of dust lifting from his vocal chords. It was quiet and devastating, and Andrew pushed a hand over his mouth just to stop him. Neil said something that was deliberately muffled by Andrew’s palm and Andrew glared at him and left it there for another minute just to be contrary.

“I can’t actually answer your question if you don’t let me speak,” Neil repeated cheekily once he was free.

“You can now,” Andrew pointed out.

“Yes,” Neil said blithely. “Yes, I wanna get off with you, Andrew.”

Andrew’s mouth flooded with sarcastic, bitter answers like bile, but he clamped his teeth shut on them and waited until the ugly reflex passed. He thought of that time they had jerked off together in Andrew’s armchair, how easy it would have been to just reach out and touch Neil. The way the flushed head of his cock had slipped in and out of the tight circle of his fingers, precome glistening on his skin. The low noises he’d made, familiar to Andrew over the phone by now yet so different when he could see Neil’s face at the same time, every shudder and strain in his body, every arch of his back and stutter of his hips. Yet Neil getting himself off wasn’t pornographic the way Andrew had imagined it. He wasn’t trying to put on a show. The way his jaw clenched and his brows dipped in concentration and his breath came in short little bursts wasn’t sexy, but it was better because it was real. Andrew wanted that again, and he wanted to be the one to cause it this time.

He trailed a hand down to Neil’s waistband and let it snap against his side.

“Yes?”

“Yeah,” Neil whispered, mouthing along Andrew’s jaw. Andrew tucked his fingertips under the waistband and stroked his thumb over Neil’s warm skin.

“What do you want?”

“I don’t care,” Neil said, cutting Andrew off when he made to protest this. “I just want you, Andrew. I don’t care what we do or how we do it. If I don’t like it, I’ll tell you, but I trust you to make me feel good. You always do.”

Andrew’s mouth felt dry and numb, so he kissed Neil again to get some feeling back. Neil happily obliged, and Andrew inched his hand further into his pants until he could rest it over Neil’s cock, feeling his hot pulse thrum just under his skin. It was addictive, and Andrew revelled in the way Neil pressed up into his palm.

Getting Neil off like this took noticeably less time than usual. Andrew had just eased his hand into a rhythm and was toying with the idea of getting lube to make things slicker and faster when Neil already tensed against him and mumbled a sloppy warning into their kiss, spilling over Andrew’s hand a moment later. Everything was warm and sticky and covered in a thin layer of sweat, but Andrew couldn’t tear himself away from Neil, looking flushed and breathless, a shy smile twitching around his mouth like a bee’s wing.

“I- sorry,” Neil whispered when Andrew just continued to stare at him, the smile dimming. “Too fast? I mean, that was- wasn’t very exciting for you, probably. Was it? I mean…”

“Shut up,” Andrew ground out, kissing him again. “Did you like it?”

“Again, I can’t shut up _and_ answer your question,” Neil said pointedly.

“Did you?” Andrew pressed.

“Yes.”

“Then it was perfect,” Andrew said quietly. Neil’s ears flushed pink all over again and he bit his lip on a grin.

“Wow, soppy,” he teased.

“Get cleaned up,” Andrew told him, poking him until he rolled out of bed laughing and landed on the floor with a thump. A second later he popped his head back over the edge of the bed, looking pink-faced and debauched, and peered at Andrew consideringly.

“Do you want me to-?”

“No,” Andrew said. “Go.”

He wiped his hands on a tissue and waited until Neil was back before heading to the bathroom himself. Leaning against the wall, he pushed down his pants and brought himself to orgasm while replaying the last moments in his mind. Then he washed off, quickly fixed his hair in the mirror and went back.

Neil was standing in his room naked.

He looked up when Andrew promptly walked into his armchair at the sight and quickly pulled on the t-shirt he’d been holding.

“Can I borrow some pants?” he asked, his voice muffled through the fabric. “I didn’t actually bring a spare pair.”

Andrew walked over to his wardrobe to hand him some and found the door already open. It was the one with the full-body mirror on the inside, and Andrew wondered if Neil had been looking at himself, naked and tousled, and if, for once, he’d liked what he saw.

Andrew took one glance at the stack of pyjama pants in his wardrobe and slammed the door shut.

“Nope, no pants left. Sorry.”

Neil raised an eyebrow at him, then looked down at his naked lower half.

“Guess I’ll sleep like this then?”

“Suit yourself,” Andrew threw over his shoulder, already on his way back to bed. Neil only hesitated for a second before joining him.

“Just for the record,” he said once the light was off and they’d settled in. “If you wanted to grope my butt, all you had to do was ask.”

“Oh?” Andrew said casually.

“Mm. No use being modest anymore now you’ve deflowered me and all,” Neil joked, voice jolting into a noise like shoes squeaking on the court floor when Andrew rose to the challenge and grabbed his bare ass.

“Still fine?”

“Yep,” Neil said weakly. “Totally fine.”

*

“I have something for you,” Neil said on the roof, the evening before Andrew’s birthday. Andrew’s stomach soured and he let a blob of soap water drip down the side of the building, ignoring the parcel Neil was holding out to him.

“I know you don’t care about your birthday,” Neil said hurriedly, “and this isn’t a birthday present, not really. Call it an anniversary present if you want.”

He grinned, quick and crooked and breathless, and dropped the parcel in Andrew’s lap. Andrew picked it up between two fingers and frowned at it.

“It’s not Schrödinger’s cat, you know,” Neil hummed. “I already got it, there’s no going back now, the cat’s definitely dead. Or something. Okay, maybe that metaphor got away from me. What I mean is, you might as well open it.”

Andrew rolled his eyes but still plucked at the haphazard wrappings and copious amounts of tape, twitching the paper apart until he could see the edge of a box.

“It’s a phone,” Neil said before he could unwrap it further, clearly too impatient to keep it a secret any longer. “Same as my new one. I just thought, we had the same model when we started texting last year, and swapping them by accident turned out pretty well for us, don’t you think?”

Andrew stared at the box, then put it away and pulled out his old phone. He tapped Neil’s number and waited until Neil answered with a bemused expression.

“Sentimental idiot.”

“You’re the one who’s dating a sentimental idiot, so joke’s on you,” Neil said smugly.

Andrew sighed long-sufferingly and hung up. Neil tossed his own phone to the side and crawled closer, giving Andrew time to move away before half-sitting in his lap and pulling him into a soft kiss. Andrew smoothed his hands down Neil’s back until they reached his ass and tucked them into the back pockets of his jeans, squeezing slightly, and Neil huffed and smiled into their kiss.

“We are not having sex on the roof,” he murmured, kissing along Andrew’s jaw and down his neck. Andrew couldn’t quite suppress the shiver that went through him like an electric shock at the contact and tightened his hands on Neil’s ass.

“No? Then you need to stop doing that.”

“What, this?” Neil asked innocently, mouthing at his neck. Andrew tried to twist his head and nose him back into a proper kiss, but Neil was a slippery bastard when he wanted to be and kept licking and nipping at his neck.

“Neil,” Andrew growled.

“Hmm?”

“Downstairs. Now.”

“Can’t. The others are in,” Neil hummed.

“We managed before,” Andrew reminded him, tapping his phone.

“Fine,” Neil sighed, the gust of warm breath against Andrew’s neck making him shiver again. “In a minute.”

A minute turned into an hour, but Andrew was a patient man if nothing else. And, after all, they had all the time in the world.

**Author's Note:**

> If you like my content, click subscribe up top or follow me on [Tumblr](https://annawrites.tumblr.com/)!


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